Strawberry Fields Forever
by AngieHarrison1999
Summary: Michelle and John have been best friends since before they could walk. This is the story of her life with him and the Beatles. Starts in 1957 and goes on from there. Not sure what year I'll end it in, but I'm deifinetly going to 1970 at least. Summary sucks, I know. The story is way better. Please Review!
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, this is my first Beatles story! I've been working on this for so long and finally decided to post it. Please review! I'll try my best to update often! ;)**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE BEATLES.**

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Friday July 5th, 1957

I strummed my guitar slowly, glancing out the window every once in a while at my next door neighbor's house, which also happened to be my best friend's house. I was hoping he would stick his head out of the window or something so I could talk to him, but he didn't. I was grounded from hanging out with him this week. My mom hates my best friend. She says he's a "bad influence" and we need "time apart". She says a young lady shouldn't be around boys like him, but I ignore her. His name is John Lennon. He's funny, smart, and an _amazing_ singer. We usually get together after school to practice songs. I set my guitar down and moved to the window sill. I could see his shadow moving around behind his gray curtains.

I slid the glass pane up and called his name, "Johnny!"

The shadow stopped moving and he opened his window. "What's happenin', love?" he called, taking a drag from his cigarette.

I could hear Elvis faintly playing on his radio.

"Just waitin' for my mother to fall asleep so I can sneak out," I replied, "What about you? Mimi still pissed 'bout you gettin' detention?"

John rolled his eyes, "Mimi's _always_ pissed," he said, taking another drag.

I laughed, "Yeah, no shit." I watched as the smoke curled up into the night sky.

"You miss me?"

I snorted, "In your dreams, Lennon."

He smirked, "Oh believe me, there's more than you just missing me in my dreams, love."

I slammed my hands down on the window sill, "You're such a god damn pig, John!"

He crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out at me. We sat in silence for a little while. It wasn't an awkward silence, it was nice. Comfortable. We did this a lot. Usually we would just go places together to just sit and think, and to get away from it all. We both had extremely annoying, strict families, so it was nice to get away. Sometimes John would bring his guitar along and we would sing songs together. "So I'll meet you at midnight?" John asked. I grinned, "On the dot." We both knew where to meet. It was our favorite place to be: Strawberry Fields. John always said it was like nothing was real there. The grass was always green, the birds were always singing, and whenever we went the weather was sunny and bright. It was perfect. I waited until about 11:45, and then, when I was sure my mum was asleep, I headed out the door. I found a note taped to my bicycle outside. I instantly recognized John's handwriting.

_Michelle,_

_Sorry, had to cut out early. Mimi ripped one and stunk up the place. See you there!_

_Xoxo,_

_Johnny_

I smiled and jammed the note into my pocket. Pedaling hard, I rode down to Strawberry Fields where John was waiting. When I pulled up, he was leaning against the iron fence smoking again. I walked over to him and reached for the ciggie, but he snatched it away.

"Get your own smokes, bird," he snapped.

I grabbed it out of his hand and took a drag. "Make me," I said, blowing smoke in his face.

I handed him his cigarette back and leaned against the fence next to him. He held it to my mouth and I took another drag. We went back and forth like this for a while, until finally he threw the cigarette down and stomped it into the asphalt. We climbed over the tall iron gate, and then took off running through the trees.

John sang as he ran, "_Let me take you down, 'cause I'm goin' to Strawberry Fields, nothin' is real. Nothin' to get hung about, Strawberry Fields forever!" _

I started laughing and joined in.

He started a new verse, "_Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see. It's gettin' hard to be someone, but it all works out. It doesn't matter much to me._"

I joined in on the chorus, "_Let me take you down, 'cause I'm goin' to Strawberry Fields. Nothing is real. And nothin' to get hung about, Strawberry Fields forever!" _

He threw his arms around me and we tumbled down to the wet, green grass. He laid on his back and I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing.

"You should write those lyrics down," I told him quietly, "You could put the song on one of your albums when you're famous." We shared a laugh.

"I'll be bigger than Elvis!" he exclaimed.

We laughed even more. It was moments like this when I _really _loved being with John.

"Hey, Michelle," he whispered.

"Hmm?"

He hesitated, "Can I, erm, ask you somethin'?"

I turned my head so I could look into his deep hazel eyes. "Sure, Johnny Boy."

He scratched his head. "Do you think we should… run away?"

The smile disappeared off my face, "Why the hell do you wanna do that?"

He furrowed his brow, "Why _don't_ you? It's not like you'll miss your mum or anythin'!"

I thought about it. He was right. My mum was the only family I had and she annoyed the living shit out of me.

"Maybe," I said, "But where would we go?"

He sighed, "I dunno, Blackpool or somethin'."

We gazed up at the starry sky in silence. Out of the blue, I heard a whistle blow.

"Hey you kids! Buzz off!"

We jumped up from the ground and ran, laughing and screaming, back to the gates. We jumped over and started heading home.

"So," John began, kicking a few pebbles into the street, "Tomorrow me and the band are gonna be playin' at the Garden Fete… you comin'?" he looked at me with hopeful eyes.

I grinned, "Of course I am, Johnny!"

We stopped in front of my front yard. He gave me a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek, and then headed over to his house. I tiptoed up the stairs to my bedroom. I didn't even bother changing into my pajamas. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

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**There's the first chapter! Thanks so much for reading! BTW next chapter, they meet Paulie! :) Please review, I want to know what you think! Peace and Love 3 :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's chapter two! I'd just like to let you know I'm open to suggestions for this story, but I'm up to about mid 1963 in my note book... just FYI. :)**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE BEATLES.**

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Saturday July 6th, 1957

I pulled my blanket up to my chin and snuggled up close to my teddy bear Lucy. My room was dark, just like the sky outside. It was almost six in the morning. _Way_ too early to get up on a Saturday I started humming one of John's songs to myself, trying to fall back asleep. But then, as always, my peacefulness was shattered. My mum burst into the room, turned on my insanely bright light, and started singing her stupid "Good Morning" song.

I pulled the blanket over my head to keep from being blinded. "Mum! It's 6 a.m. on a Saturday! GOOD NIGHT," I snarled.

My mom ripped the duvet off me and started spraying me with a water pistol. I was too angry to say anything. I fled out of my room, down the stairs, over to John's house. I banged on the door, not caring who I woke.

His aunt Mimi answered the door, already fully dressed. "John's still asleep," she snapped.

I pushed past her and ran up the stairs. I shoved John's door open. He lay on the bed spread-eagled. His feet were on his pillow and his head was at the foot of the bed. The blankets lay in a heap on the floor. I crawled into bed next to him and tried to go back to sleep. This is what I always did when my mum wouldn't leave me alone in the morning. He started drooling on my arm and I groaned. I guess the noise was a bit too loud, because it woke him up.

"What're you pissin' and moanin' about?" he laughed.

I sighed, "I'll give you a hint, it's loud, annoying, and likes to sing."

He made a puppy dog face, "What'd I ever do to you?" he said in a mock-hurt voice.

I rolled my eyes, "Not _you_ dumbass!"

John laughed again. "I know, I know. Hey, d'you mind if I play ya some songs I'll be doin' at the show today? I wanna practice…" He grabbed his guitar and started plucking the strings. After a few chords he started to sing. _"Well baby says she's drivin' on the one after 909. I said 'Move over honey, I'm drivin' on that line.' I said 'Move over once, move over twice. Come on baby don't be cold as ice.' Said she's drivin' on the one after 909…" _

He played a few more songs, and then I applauded, "You're the best, Johnny Boy!"

He grinned, "Damn straight!"

We ate breakfast together and hung out til three. Then he packed up his guitar and Mimi drove us down to the Garden Fete at St. Peter's Church Field. John's band, the Quarrymen, would be playing at 4:15 and again at 5:45. Both shows were brilliant. They sang "Rock Island Line", "That'll Be the Day", and a bunch of others. "You were fantastic, Johnny!" I exclaimed to him after the show.

Before he could reply, one of his mates, Ivan, came running up to us. "John!" he panted, "I want you to meet one of me mates; his name's Paul McCartney. He's a bloody good guitar player! C'mon, he's waitin' backstage."

John and I exchanged looks, and then followed Ivan to his friend. A young boy, no older than fifteen, sat backstage strumming a guitar.

"John, this is Paul," Ivan said, gesturing to the boy. Paul looked up at us and smiled. He had a round baby face and big brown doe eyes. His hair was slicked up like John's. "Go ahead Paul," Ivan said happily, "Show 'em what you can do!"

Paul started to play "Twenty Flight Rock". He sang too, and he was pretty good. He finished the song and went on to playing "Be-Bop-A-Lula" before finally setting down his instrument. I thought he was pretty good, but I wasn't sure what John thought. His face was expressionless and he was staring off into space, obviously thinking.

Eventually his eyes regained their focus and his gaze shifted to Paul, "You want in?"

Paul looked confused, "In on what?"

John smiled, "In on the band o' course! You're bloody good!"

Paul grinned widely, "Hell yeah!" He and John shook hands.

"Meet me at Strawberry Fields tomorrow night at midnight. Bring your guitar," With that, John turned and left.

I followed, glancing over my shoulder to smile at Paul. He gave me a thumbs up and returned the grin. I strolled alongside John down the dark street. He laced his fingers through mine.

"He's good, in' he?" John said.

I nodded, "Almost as good as you, Johnny!"

He laughed. _"…Let me take you down, 'cause I'm goin' too…" _

I joined in, _"Strawberry Fields, nothin' is real. And nothing to get hung about! Strawberry Fields forever!" _

We laughed and sang the rest of the way home.

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**Review please! Peace and love ~Angie :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks so much for the reviews! This is the last chapter that takes place in 1957. The next one is where they meet George! Hope you enjoy it! :)**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE BEATLES.**

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Sunday July 7th, 1957

John and I stood outside the gates to Strawberry Fields, patiently waiting for Paul to arrive. I brushed my long blonde hair out of my eyes and lit a cigarette. I noticed a shadowy figure walking towards us. It was Paul.

"McCartney!" John yelled, waving at the boy.

Paul waved back, smiling. The three of us climbed over the fence and sat underneath a tree. John put his guitar on his lap and started playing "Roll Over Beethoven", one of my favorites. He strummed the last chord and looked up expectantly. I clapped, but Paul didn't.

He made a face, "Why do you only play with four strings?"

I answered before John could, "Because him mum taught him how to play with a banjo," I said.

"It's not tuned right either," Paul commented.

John stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes. Paul didn't say anything else about John's playing after that, but he did show us how to tune a guitar. At around 2:30, we packed up our things, said goodbye to Paul, and made our way home. I spent the night at John's that night. I was too pissed at my mom to go home. I'd been doing this since I was little, whenever I got pissed at my mom I'd walk over to John's house and we would play together. I've known him since before I could walk. I don't know what I'd do without him. We tried working on more lyrics for "Strawberry Fields Forever". By the end of the night we had finished most of the song. That morning John had decided to wash up before we went anywhere.

I could hear his voice echoing down the hallway as he sang in the shower, "_Oh dirty Maggie Mae, they have taken her away! And she'll never walk down Lime Street anymore! Oh, the judge he guilty found her, for robbin' a homeward bounder! That dirty, no good, robbin' Maggie Mae!" _

I sat, smiling, on his bed flipping through his notebook of songs that he'd written. On the first page was the very first song he'd written, "Hello Little Girl". He played that one for me often. I went through and read a few others, "Bad to Me", "This Boy", and "Please Please Me". On the last page was "Strawberry Fields Forever". John came into the room then, hair dripping, with only a towel wrapped around his waist. He shook his head like a wet dog, spraying water on everything.

"John!" I shrieked, wiping the droplets off of my face.

He snickered, "Sorry, love."

The phone on his nightstand began to ring.

I answered it, "Hello?"

John made a face at me, "Who is it?" he mouthed.

"Oh, hi Michelle... it's Paul," said the voice on the phone.

"Hi Paul!" I replied happily.

John rolled his eyes and reached for the phone. I slapped his hand away. He stuck his tongue out at me and crossed his eyes. I snorted.

"What was that?" I heard Paul ask.

"Um, nothing!" I replied hastily, trying not to embarrass myself.

John giggled and I threw a pillow at him.

"So, er, I was wondering if you guys could maybe come by my house today. We can practice some songs…" whilst Paul was speaking, John made several attempts at stealing the phone from me.

He didn't succeed.

"Go away!" I yelled at him.

"What?" It was Paul, he sounded hurt.

I slapped my forehead in frustration, "No, no! Not you! I was talking to John. He's being an arse."

"Are you guys together or something?" Paul asked.

I shook my head vigorously, but realized that he couldn't see me, "Hell no!" I replied.

He laughed, "Okay then. See you guys at three?"

I made a face at John, and then replied, "Yup!"

Paul hung up and so did I. Then I got up and went downstairs so John could get dressed.

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Paul's house was pretty close, so we walked there. His dad let us in and told us Paul was upstairs. We found Paul in his room, sitting on his bed and playing his guitar.

He smiled when we walked in, "'Ello!" he said happily.

"Hey!" I said, giving him a hug.

John made a squinty face at me, but I ignored him. We all sat down on the floor with our guitars.

Paul took a notebook off of his bed and handed it to John, "These are some songs I've written," he said, "I wanted to see what you think of them."

I leaned over so I could read from the notebook as well.

"Play this one," said John, pointing to a page titled "In Spite of All the Danger".

Paul proceeded to strum the chords and sing. When he finished the song, which was fantastic by the way, all John did was nod. Paul looked a bit nervous. I rolled my eyes and jerked my thumb at John, who had resumed reading the notebook. Paul got the message and smiled. John was just being John. After hearing a few more of Paul's songs, we decided to practice some that we all knew. We had dinner with Paul, his father and his brother Mike. For some reason, his mum wasn't there. My eyes kept trailing to the empty seat across the table. The McCartneys started to take notice. Their father wouldn't look me in the eyes, and every time I met one of the boys' eyes, they were filled with sadness despite the smiles on their faces. What was wrong?

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**End of chapter three! Sorry for the bit of sadness at the end, but Mary McCartney sort of plays into the story later on so I felt the need to mention her. Please review! Peace and love ~Angie :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter is really short...sorry. I just couldn't think of anything else to add for this chapter...But I'm trying to upload a lot today so it's okay! ;) I know some of my stuff isn't exactly how it happened, but it's fiction so who cares. Hope you enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE BEATLES.**

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Thursday February 6th, 1958

It was about 8 p.m. John and I climbed up to the second floor of the bus, followed by Paul and his friend George. We all sat down and Paul looked at George excitedly. George was about fifteen, and according to Paulie, he was a damn good guitar player. George rested his guitar case on his lap, his cheeks slightly tinged with red. He had quite large ears, thick eyebrows, and deep brown eyes. Like John and Paul, he had his hair slicked up.

"Go on, George!" Paul exclaimed, waving a hand at his younger friend, "Show 'em!"

George adjusted his instrument, then started to play "Raunchy". He played the song perfectly. He finished and looked up at John, whose eyebrows were raised. He was obviously surprised by George's talent.

"You know what I think fellas?" John smiled.

"What?" Paul asked, confused.

John smiled wider, "We should start our _own_ band!"

I turned to him, a bit confused, "What about the Quarrymen?" I asked.

He shrugged, "We don't need the other guys anymore. All we need is a drummer and we'll be a rock and roll band!"

We hadn't been able to find a drummer, but a few weeks later, we managed to get a gig at a club called The Cavern. We played a few songs, and then after the show, the owner of the local record shop, Brian Epstien, came backstage to see us.

"You kids were pretty good," he commented.

"Thanks!" Paul grinned.

"Even though guitar groups are on their way out, I'd like to be your manager," Epstien stated.

George raised his thick eyebrows, "You think we're that good?"

Brain chuckled, "No, I think you're horrible. But absolutely incredible."

John made a face, "Why do you wanna manage us if we're so bad?" he said in an angry tone.

Epstien laughed again, "Because. You're just so different."

We went back and forth with the discussion for nearly two hours, but finally, all of us agreed to have Epstien as our manager. He said he would get us gigs and eventually try to get us a tour and then eventually maybe even a record deal. He told us this would be the start of something big.

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**Really short and crappy chapter, I know. But I needed to add George obviously. I intend to write about him a lot in this story because he's my favorite Beatle! Please review, and for those who have reviewed already, thanks so much! Seriously you guys are awesome! Peace and Love ~ Angie**


	5. Chapter 5

**UPDATE: The new bit at the end just popped into my head so I added it.**

**This chapter is a sad one I'm afraid. It's also another kind of short one... sorry again. I don't really like sadness so I didn't want to drag this one out.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE BEATLES.**

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Tuesday July 15th, 1958

John and I talked and laughed as we strolled down the street to our houses. We'd just finished another jam session at Strawberry Fields with George and Paul. As we approached John's house I noticed Mimi standing on the front porch. I elbowed John to get his attention.

"What's she doin', then?" I whispered.

His gaze shifted to his aunt. "What's buggin' you?" he called.

Mimi turned to face us, eyes red, face stained with tears. "Oh, John," she cried, throwing her arms around his neck, "it's Julia, John! She's been hit by a car! She… She didn't make it…" Mimi began to cry some more.

John's face went blank. The cigarette that he had been holding between two fingers fell to the sidewalk. Mimi sobbed into his neck. My whole body went numb. I'd known Julia Lennon all my life. She couldn't be dead. I raced into my house, tears streaming down my face. I threw myself onto my bed and cried into my pillow.

I'm not sure when I fell asleep.

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I woke up the next night. I'd slept the whole day away. Julia was like a second mother to me. I couldn't stop grieving over her loss. I slid out from under my blankets, still wearing the same clothes as yesterday, and started making my way to Strawberry Fields. Just as I expected, John was there.

I found him sitting under a tree, staring off into space. I sat down next to him and rested my head on his shoulder. I wasn't sure if he even realized I was there. He just gazed up at the stars, his face was blank.

A short while later, I heard footsteps coming from behind. I turned around to see who was there. It was George and Paul. The look on their faces confirmed that they knew what had happened. Paul sat down silently next to me and placed his hand on top of mine. George stood near Paul, leaning against the tree trunk and sadly gazing at the grass.

The four of us sat in silence for a while, until John finally spoke, "It's not fair," he whispered, not making eye contact with any of us.

All I could do was rest my hand on his shoulder. I was at a loss for words, because what he said was true.

It wasn't fair.

John and I stayed at The Fields all night, even after George and Paul went home. I didn't want to leave him alone, knowing that he could get a bit reckless when he was upset. I noticed that he had his songwriting not book beside him.

I tapped his arm, "Why'd you bring that?" I asked quietly.

He didn't answer me.

Instead he got his guitar out from behind the tree and started to sing, "_Half of what I say is meaningless, but I say it just to reach you, Julia. Oh, sweet child, calls me. So I sing a song of love, Julia..."_

I was crying by the time he finished.

"That was beautiful, John," I said, squeezing his hand.

Again, he didn't speak. He just set his guitar off to the side and went back to his star gazing.

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**Please review! Love you guys! Peace and Love ~ Angie**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hooray long chapter! ...well, I guess you could consider this long. It's double the size of the previous two. Hope this makes you happy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE BEATLES.**

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Sunday January 17th, 1960

John, Paul, George, and I sat together under a shady willow tree, all strumming our guitars.

"Oi, here he comes," John said, pointing across the field at a teenage boy who was walking towards us.

"That's your mate Stuart, then?" Paul asked, looking up from his guitar.

John nodded, "Aye, I'm gonna ask him to join the band."

George looked confused, "Why?"

John strummed a few chords, "Well, we need a bass player, don't we?"

I glanced at the boy, "He plays?" I asked.

"Nah, but I can get 'im to," John answered.

Stuart approached us and sat down next to John. I said "hi" and he smiled.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about John?" Stuart asked.

"We want you to join our band," John said as he pulled out a pack of smokes.

He offered one to me and I accepted it.

Stuart looked shocked, "But I'm an artist, I don't play any instruments," he said.

"You can learn," John replied, smirking.

"But-"

John rolled his eyes, "But nothin'! Save up a few pounds and buy a bass, Stu!"

Soon enough, Stuart gave in and agreed to join the band. We all cheered.

"Now all we need is a drummer," Paul said.

"Well, I've got this mate, Pete Best," George began, "He got a drum set for Christmas. Maybe I can get him to join."

John nodded, "Sure, give 'im a call, George. Then we'll finally be a real band!"

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Later on, John and Paul decided to show us some songs they'd written together.

"Okay," Paul smiled, "Here's the first one."

John counted to three and they started to play and sing, "_Well, she was just seventeen, you know what I mean, and the way she looked was way beyond compare. So how could I dance with another, oh, when I saw her standing there…_"

When they finished, we decided to go and get lunch. Stuart had to go home, so it was just the four of us. George brought us to his favorite deli. We each got a grilled cheese, except for George, who decided to get two grilled cheeses _and_ a salad.

"So this Pete bloke," John began, wiping his mouth with a napkin and taking a swig from his soda, "Is he any good?"

George shrugged, "I dunno, I've never really heard 'im play. I just know he's a drummer."

John looked frustrated, "Don't go gettin' us a shit drummer!" he said through a mouthful of sandwich.

George looked down at his food and didn't say anything.

Paul slapped John's arm, "Stop yelling!" he hissed, seeing that the waitresses were taking notice, and whispering to each other.

John threw his dirty napkin at Paul, which hit him right between the eyes. He had a bit of melted cheese on the bridge of his nose.

"John!" Paul snapped, "Cut it out!"

He wiped the food off of his face and glanced nervously at a pretty red-headed waitress that I could tell he had his eyes on. She smiled at him and his cheeks turned red. John saw too, and I could see the mischievous glint in his eyes. He snatched up my soda and hurled it at the waitress who was on her way over to our table; I assumed she was coming to talk to Paul. She shrieked and began to cry that her newly done hair was ruined or something of the sort. Paul jumped up to comfort her, but John stopped him.

"Filthy woman, flirting with my boyfriend!" John said loudly.

Then he grabbed Paul's shirt collar and dragged him out of the deli. George and I, laughing our asses off, followed them out. John didn't let go of Paul until we reached the next block.

"What the hell was that?" Paul shouted.

John shrugged and nonchalantly walked away. Paul ran after him, and George and I caught up shortly after. John lit up a ciggie, completely ignoring Paul, who was furious. I glanced at George and noticed his eyes were watery from all the laughing. Mine were too.

John finally looked Paul in the eyes, "…tag you're it!"

He slapped Paul's cheek and took off running down the street in the direction of the docks. Paul stood there on the sidewalk, dumbfounded. In a few seconds George realized what game we were playing and sprinted after John, with me following. The three of us met up by the pier. John had resumed smoking his cigarette. It took Paul a few minutes to find us. By then, he had seemed to have gotten over the whole red haired waitress thing, but he gave me a look that told me he planned on getting Johnny back. We grinned at each other, and then Paul strolled up next to John. Without warning, Paul shoved John into the freezing water.

John surfaced in a matter of seconds, "You son of a bitch!" he cried, climbing back up onto the dock.

He raised a fist and popped Paul in the jaw.

"John!" I screamed, running to pull him away from Paul, who had fallen to the ground. "What the hell?" I slapped his chest.

He looked at me like I was crazy, "He pushed me into the water!" John retorted.

He started to shiver. I looked at Paul, who was cradling his jaw. The bit of skin his hand wasn't covering was beginning to turn purple. I grabbed John's arm, digging my fingernails into his skin, and dragged him back to my house.

"I'll take Paul home," George called to me.

I raised my free hand to let him know that I'd heard. When we got back home, I made John change into dry clothes and then sat him down on my couch to give him a lecture. I crossed my arms and stared him in the eyes. He made a puppy dog face at me, but I showed no change in emotion. His chocolate brown eyes were saying _sorry_ but I didn't care. Punching a friend was going too far. This time it was a punch, but knowing John's loose-cannon temper, next time his reaction could be much worse. We just looked at each other for a moment, his coffee colored eyes staring into my icy blue ones.

"Don't do that again," I said firmly.

Then I walked away. I put the kettle on the stove and began making tea for the both of us. He sat on the couch for a while, examining his fingernails. He was silent. I gave him his mug of tea and he said "thank you" very quietly. I sat down next to him and drank my tea as well. This silence was a bit awkward. He wouldn't sit still and nearly made me spill my tea quite a few times.

"…I didn't mean to upset you." He said, his voice still quiet, "I'm sorry."

He gave me the puppy dog face again, but this time I fell for it. He was too cute to be mad at. With his birds beak nose and his square jaw line. I know, he doesn't sound too attractive when you say it like that, but if you saw John in person you'd agree. He's quite good looking. Hot, actually.

I gave him a hug, "Just don't do that anymore," I said.

He nodded, "Okay."

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**Review please! People that favorited and reviewed and stuff already, I love you! You guys make me feel so special!**

**Peace and love ~ Angie**


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE BEATLES.**

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Saturday August 6th, 1960

"So, that's how I got the name," John concluded.

I burst out laughing. He wanted to change our band's name from "Johnny and the Moondogs" to "The Beatles". He claimed he had a vision of a man on a flaming pie who told him: "The band shall now be beetles with an 'A'." He was strange sometimes, but I still loved him.

"You're mad!" I exclaimed.

He grinned, "Mad people are the most interesting kind."

I strummed a few chords on my guitar, "You're right," I agreed.

Today we were going to meet with George's mate Pete. The five of us were going to our typical place in Strawberry Fields and we told Pete to meet us there. I started to play a few of the chords to "Strawberry Fields Forever".

John began to sing, this time it was a new verse, "_Always, no, sometimes think it's me. But you know, I know when it's a dream. I think, I know, I mean, a yes, but it's all wrong. That is I think I disagree." _

I joined in on the chorus, _"Let me take you down, 'cause I'm goin' to Strawberry Fields! Nothin' is real! And nothing to get hung about! Strawberry Fields forever!" _

We laughed together and started singing again. Leaves blew down from the tree we were sitting under and landed in our hair. A butterfly landed on the neck of my guitar. I watched it's black and orange wings twitch for a moment, and then it took off flying again. John and I continued to sing, and this time Paul and George joined in, having learned the words. Stuart smiled, but kept quiet.

"So this must be the famous Beatles."

We stopped singing, and I turned to see where the voice had come from. It was some teenager I didn't recognize.

"You interrupted our singing," John said in a mono-tone.

I could tell his temper was flaring up again.

"John, this is Pete," George said a little bit awkwardly, trying to prevent a fight.

John snorted, but said no more. Pete sat down quietly next to George.

John kept his head down, fingering the strings on his guitar. "We're not famous," he grumbled.

"I was joking," Pete said blankly.

John glared at him. I tried to calm him down a bit by resting my hand on his shoulder. I could feel his muscles relax. Paul chuckled awkwardly, trying to break the tension.

George sighed, "…So… you wanna be in the band Pete?"

John made a noise somewhere between a snarl and a cough. Paul shot him an angry look, which he returned.

Pete smirked, "Sure, I could use the money."

John rolled his eyes, "There is no money."

Paul grimaced, "Be quiet John."

John looked ready to punch him again; to replace the bruise that had faded away.

"There'll be money soon," George reminded him, "Brian booked us some gigs in Germany, remember?"

John remained silent and expressionless. "He can join, but only 'cause we need a drummer," with that, John stood up and walked away.

"Gear," Pete smiled.

I rose to my feet and followed John. I caught up with him outside the Fields and we walked home together. When we got back, we went up to John's room to hang out. There were two notebooks lying on his bed. One was his, the other was Paul's.

"Paul left his notebook here," I told him as I flipped through the pages.

John shrugged, "Whatever."

He went downstairs to get some snacks. I opened Paul's notebook to a random page. This song was titled "I've Just Seen a Face". It was dated _July 6 '57, _the day we'd met.

I read the first few lines, "_I've just seen a face,_ _I can't forget the time or place where we just met. She's just the girl for me and I want all the world to see we've met. Had it been another day I might have looked the other way and I'd have never been aware, but as it is I dream of her tonight. Falling, yes I am falling, and she keeps calling me back again. I have never known the likes of this. I've been alone and I have missed things and kept out of sight, but other girls were never quite like this…" _

Suddenly it dawned on me. Paul had a crush on me. He'd written this song about _me._

I thought back to our conversation on the phone so long ago: _"So, er, I was wondering if you guys could maybe come by my house today. We can practice some songs…" whilst Paul was speaking, John made several attempts at stealing the phone from me. He didn't succeed. "Go away!" I yelled at him. "What?" It was Paul, he sounded hurt. I slapped my forehead in frustration, "No, no! Not you! I was talking to John. He's being an arse," I said. "Are you guys together or something?" Paul asked. I shook my head vigorously, but realized that he couldn't see me, "Hell no!" I replied. He laughed, "Okay then. See you guys at three?" _

That was why he'd asked. I didn't know what I would say to him next time I saw him. I didn't love him back. Not in that way, at least. I turned to the next page of the notebook, not sure what to expect. I gasped when I saw the song. It was titled "Michelle".

I started to read it: "_Michelle, my belle, these are words that go together well, my Michelle. Michelle, my belle, sont les mots qui vont tres bien ensemble, tres bien ensemble. I love you, I love you, I love you, that's all I want to say, until I find a way, I will say the only words I know that you'll understand. Michelle, my belle, sont les mots qui vont tres bien ensemble, tres bien ensemble. I need to, I need to, I need to, I need to make you see oh, what you mean to me. Until I do, I'm hoping you will know what I mean. I love you..." _

I shut the notebook and shoved it aside. Paul was going to be heartbroken. I had no idea what to say. John's raggedy notebook was sitting next to me. I slowly picked it up and opened it to his most recent page. I sighed inwardly. His new song was called "It's Only Love". No doubt, about me. These boys were going to drive me crazy.

I read the lyrics: "_I get high when I see you go by. My oh my. When you sigh, my, my insides just fly,  
Butterflies. Why am I so shy when I'm beside you? It's only love and that is all, why should I feel the way I do? It's only love, and that is all, but it's so hard loving you. Is it right that you and I should fight every night? Just the sight of you makes nighttime bright, very bright. Haven't I the right to make it up girl?  
It's only love and that is all, why should I feel the way I do? It's only love, and that is all but it's so hard loving you. Yes it's so hard loving you…"_

That one was written the night he'd punched Paul. I was about to shut the notebook when John walked in. His smile disappeared instantly.

"…You read that?" he asked hesitantly.

I nodded. I saw the muscles in his jaw clench. He threw the bag of chips and two cans of soda he was carrying onto the bed and snatched the notebook away from me, hiding it in his closet. He didn't say much for the rest of the night.

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**Thanks for reading! Peace and love ~ Angie**


	8. Chapter 8

**Bit of a short one... there's going to be about one more Hamburg chapter and then one chapter from '61, and then they finally get their record deal! And they meet Ringo! Hope you enjoy! :)**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE BEATLES.**

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Tuesday August 16th 1960

By now we'd all dropped out of school to be in the band. John always reminded us that we were going to be bigger than Elvis, and we took his word for it. At the moment, we were sitting in an old van. Brian was driving, Pete rode shotgun, I sat between John and George, and Paul and Stu sat in the very back.

I couldn't stop thinking about the conversation I'd had with Paul a few days earlier:

"_I read some songs from the notebook you left at John's house…" I said a bit awkwardly. _

_His face turned bright red, "…Oh...um, which ones?" _

_I hesitated, "I...I don't remember…" _

_He could tell I was lying and wouldn't make eye contact with me. "Right, well, I better get going. Dad'll be angry if I stay out too late…" He turned on his heel and walked briskly down the street to his house, leaving me alone on the sidewalk._

He still acted shy and awkward around me. As we were walking to the van earlier I could feel his hand repeatedly brush against mine.

It reminded me of another song I'd seen in Paul's notebook: "_Oh yeah, I'll tell you something I think you'll understand. When I say that something, I wanna hold your hand…"_

And now as we drove down to the ferry he didn't participate in any conversations and avoided eye contact with me. I happened to catch him staring at me a few times, though.

"What d'you think it'll be like in Hamburg?" George asked me excitedly.

I shrugged, "I dunno… German."

John snickered, "It'll be dirty, slutty, and smelly. My kinda place!" he said, laughing his maniacal laugh.

I rolled my eyes, "Shut up."

We arrived in Germany on the ferry a few hours later. It was about 10 p.m. John was mostly right about what Hamburg would be like. We pulled up in front of a club called the Indra. Inside it was just as Johnny had predicted. Dirty, smelly, slutty, and smoky. We made our way to the stage and started setting up our instruments.

Every night as we were setting up the manager of the club would call to us, "Mach shau, Beatles! Mach shau!"

After the shows we would go to our room in the back of the club. It was small and musty. There were no windows, and just one single, bare light bulb dangling from the ceiling with moths fluttering around it. I watched John as he drew in his sketchbook. He was drawing a puppy as he hummed "Hound Dog" quietly. Everyone else was asleep.

"Hey," he whispered to me, "Guess what."

I cocked an eyebrow, "What?"

He smiled, "We finally ran away." 

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**Thanks for reading! Peace and Love ~ Angie**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi! Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I married John on my Sims game and I've been really busy taking care of our babies :P hahaha. So anyway, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE BEATLES.**

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Monday November 21st, 1960

We were _still_ in Hamburg. Don't get me wrong, it's not like that was a bad thing. We were actually making a decent amount of money. The clubs were pretty fun too; John and I went back some nights after the concerts and danced to the music of the other bands. So basically, it wasn't a bad thing… until today.

George was the youngest in the band. John, Stu and I were all twenty years old, Pete was nineteen, and Paul was eighteen. So we were all adults except George. For a while, he passed as an eighteen year old, but earlier this morning he got busted. The manager of the Indra called the police and George was being deported this afternoon. We also had been fired; the manager was furious that we'd lied to him.

John, George and I sat in the back of Stuart's girlfriend's car. Her name was Astrid and she was a photographer; we'd become very good friends since we first met. We pulled up to the train station and went inside to see George off. We were getting back to Liverpool a bit late because Paul and Pete had gotten themselves arrested. After one of our shows, they'd tacked a condom onto a wall in the club and set it on fire as a celebration. They were idiots. It made the manager angry, so he called the cops on them. George pulled me into a hug and I hugged him back. John cleared his throat loudly, making George back away from me, blushing. The conductor called for all the passengers and George went to board the train. We waved goodbye, and then drove to the police station to bail out Pete and Paul. We had to use more than half of our concert profits. The rest of the money was to be used on transportation to get home.

"Nice goin', dumbasses," John spat angrily as we left the station.

Paul glared at him, "Yeah, because we were supposed to know it would piss the guy off!"

John rolled his eyes, "Who the hell lights a goddamn condom on fire?"

Paul and Pete ignored John and walked a bit faster to get ahead of us.

"Hey," Stu said, his voice sounding a little nervous, "I need to tell you guys something important."

John raised his bushy eyebrows, waiting for Stu to continue.

"'I'm dropping out of the band," Stuart declared.

I could tell John was really getting angry now. "Look Stu, if it's 'cause of those idiots, forget it. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again," he said, giving Paul and Pete a deadly glare.

Stuart shook his head, "No, it's not because of them. I want to stay here. With Astrid," he said, turning to smile at his girlfriend.

John sighed, "Fine. But now we need a new bass player."

I squeezed his hand to try and comfort him a bit. An hour later, we boarded the train and then took the ferry back home. John and I walked back to our houses hand in hand, our free hands each holding a cigarette.

"We're finally back," I said happily.

He smiled, "Yeah."

I shifted my backpack on my shoulder to keep it from falling off. "You think Stu's gonna be okay?" I asked him.

He looked at me, his eyes filled with worry. "I dunno," he said quietly, "I gotta feeling something bad's gonna happen."

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**Really short one, sorry. :( There's a pretty long one coming up soon, though. To all my reviewers, you guys are awesome! Seriously, you have no idea how happy it makes me to get such positive feedback. Peace and love ~ Angie**


	10. Chapter 10

**I'm really sorry I haven't been updating recently. I've been really busy... I'll try to get more chapters up today. :)**

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Sunday January 29th, 1961

I took a drag from my cigarette and rested my head against the trunk of the tree I was sitting under. For once, I was the first one to get to Strawberry Fields, and to be honest, the absence of the boys was quite relaxing. Paul had started acting less awkward around me, and he was pretty much back to his normal self. He also became our new bass player. Out of the corner of my eye I saw George approaching, guitar in hand. He sat down next to me and started tuning his instrument.

"Hey," he said, not looking up from the strings.

"Hi," I replied, taking another drag.

Without warning, he started to sing, "_You'll never know how much I really love you. You'll never know how much I really care. Listen, do you want to know a secret? Do you promise not to tell? Oh, closer. Let me whisper in your ear. Say the words you long to hear. I'm in love with you. Ooo…" _

He finished and smiled at me, "What do you think?" he asked.

I grinned back, "That was good George! It's really cute."

His smile faded a bit, "Cute?"

I nodded, "Yeah."

The smile was completely gone now. "Just cute? That's it?" he sounded like he was getting upset.

I shrugged, not sure what to say next.

_Why do they all have a crush on me? _I yelled in my mind.

I was starting to get frustrated with these boys. I could never be with Paul, he had John had gotten even closer since Julia died; Paul had told us that his mum died when he was fourteen. They were best friends, but if I started dating Paul, John would be furious with both of us. He liked me too. I didn't want to ruin their friendship over something silly. And then there was George. He was really sweet, and maybe even more good looking than John. But I didn't know what to do, or what to say to any of them. George was watching me intently, waiting for me to say something. I avoided eye contact with him; I had nothing else to say right now. John and Paul arrived only a few seconds later, and I was extremely thankful for that. Today, John had his mouth organ instead of his guitar.

"What's with the harp?" George asked, pointing at the harmonica.

"Paul and I wrote a new song," John answered, "It's called 'Love Me Do'."

Pete arrived just as John and Paul finished playing the song for us. We tried to come up with some new stuff for a bit. George made up a really good guitar lick, and Paul and I were trying to put some words to it. John was strumming chords along with George's lead.

Paul's face lit up and he started to sing, "_Got a good reason, for taking the easy way out." _

I realized he was going to repeat that line so I joined in, "_Got a good reason, for taking the easy way out, now." _

After that he sang new lyrics, "_She was a day tripper. One way ticket, yeah. It took me so long to find out. But I found out…" _

We named the song "Day Tripper". By the time we finished writing and practicing songs, we were exhausted.

* * *

The next morning I woke up to a loud bang. It was John. He slammed open my bedroom door and started jumping on the foot of my bed.

"Wake up!" he shouted.

I kicked him in the shin and he fell of the bed onto the floor.

"What you do want?" I snapped.

If you haven't noticed already, I'm not a morning person.

He grabbed my arm and made me get up. "You gotta come see what I got in the mail!" he said happily.

I got dressed and then followed him over to his house. He held up a brand new Rickenbacker 325 electric guitar.

I gasped, "Johnny, where'd you get that?"

He rolled his eyes, "The mail! I already told ya!"

He handed the guitar to me and I ran my fingers over the fret board.

"From who?" I asked.

He grinned, "Stu. He's been makin' lot's 'o money sellin' his paintings."

I strummed a chord on the guitar. It was difficult to hear without an amplifier.

"Brilliant!" I smiled.

We decided to put together what money we'd saved up to buy an amp. It was a Vox, and it sounded fantastic. The whole day we took turns playing Johnny's new guitar.

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**Sort of a crappy chapter, sorry. Please review! I appreciate all the reviews and favorites I've gotten already, thanks so much! Love you guys! Peace and love ~ Angie**


	11. Chapter 11

**I'm really sorry but this is an extremely short chapter. I don't want to make it super sad and I don't want to dwell on this stuff so I didn't write much...**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THE BEATLES**

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Tuesday April 10th, 1962

I watched the record turn around and around on the turntable. Buddy Holly's "That'll Be the Day" blared loudly from the speakers. John was laying on his bed with a cigarette sticking out of his mouth. The phone on his bedside table started to ring.

"I got it," I told him, "Hello?"

John got up and turned down the music.

"Michelle?"

I recognized that German accent; it was Astrid.

"Hi Astrid!" I said happily, "How's Stuart?"

She sighed, "Yes, well, that's what I called to talk about… A few hours ago, Stuart… died. It… it was from a brain hemorrhage…"

I was speechless. I glanced over at John, who was smiling at me. I couldn't tell him yet. His mother's death still seemed like yesterday.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, trying not to let John hear.

"Sorry 'bout what?" he asked, smile disappearing.

Damn it… Well, he had to know anyway.

"Well, bye then…"

Astrid hung up.

I set the phone down. "John… Stu died today."

Tears were brimming in my eyes. His reaction was similar to when he heard about his mum. He didn't cry, he just sort of stared off into space. There was a knock at the door and I opened it. It was George and Paul. Their eyes were red.

"We just got the call," George said quietly.

He pulled me into a hug. We spent the rest of the day just sitting together, the four of us. No one really said anything. There was nothing to say. Nothing that could change anything.

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**I'm super sorry about how short this is... I'll try to make the next ones much longer. Peace and love ~ Angie**


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